[Fic]GW500 prompt - Ink, Points Unknown
Title: Points Unknown
Author: lil_1337
Pairing/Characters: Quatre, Trowa
Rating: G
Word count: 500
Warnings/Kinks: None
Summary: For the gw500 prompt Ink.
Disclaimer: I don't own Quatre, Trowa, or a shuttle.
Space, outside the front window of the shuttle, was as black as the inky depths of the Mariana Trench. Here and there a pinprick of light signaled the presence of something besides barren emptiness far away in the distance. A cold that insinuated itself into both the body and soul was kept at bay by the thick metal skin of the Winner Enterprises series X721. The shuttle, painted a glossy silver and black, was currently making its way towards Earth at well past the speed of light. It was small and sleek, the sports car of a line of personal shuttles currently being marketed to the executive on the go.
This one in particular had an engine that was not available to the general public in any of the upgrade packages offered. It had been specially designed in the same laboratories by several unorthodox consultants for the CEO of Winner Enterprises himself. They had started with the same base plan and taken it in ways that would be prohibitively expensive to mass produce, but had resulted in a level of speed and maneuverability that was years ahead anything that was not a custom design.
Safely inside, strapped into a seat made of butter soft synthetic leather sat the man himself studying a schematic as the shuttle blasted through the long miles of space. He could and often did pilot himself, but in this case he was accompanied by his long time companion. The man currently in command of the ship, at one time or another had been reported to be Mr. Winner's friend, lover, and bodyguard. The nature of their relationship however remained undefined to those outside his tight circle of friends as Quatre Winner was steadfast his refusal to discuss his private life. It was one of many things that formed the basis for the media's love/hate relationship with the often elusive head of Winner Enterprises.
In court of public opinion however he reigned supreme. He was physically attractive, well dressed, and dedicated to making the world a better place, all of which worked in his favor. As did the fact that he could be found at ground zero of most disaster relief efforts. He not only opened his checkbook to those in need, but his heart and arms. Once, when a shuttle crashed into a residential neighborhood on L4 he allowed his home to be turned into a makeshift hospital and refugee shelter. He and his friends worked tirelessly along side the medical personnel for days on end.
The shuttle banked, making a course correction, and then barreled on through the vast expanses of open space. In ten point zero five hours it would be landing at the Geneva shuttle port where Mr. Winner and his companion would disembark. From there they would travel to an undisclosed location to spend the next two weeks. Because, it seems, even hard working, dedicated, humanitarians like Quatre Winner occasionally need to visit old friends, lie on the beach and drink margaritas.
Author: lil_1337
Pairing/Characters: Quatre, Trowa
Rating: G
Word count: 500
Warnings/Kinks: None
Summary: For the gw500 prompt Ink.
Disclaimer: I don't own Quatre, Trowa, or a shuttle.
Space, outside the front window of the shuttle, was as black as the inky depths of the Mariana Trench. Here and there a pinprick of light signaled the presence of something besides barren emptiness far away in the distance. A cold that insinuated itself into both the body and soul was kept at bay by the thick metal skin of the Winner Enterprises series X721. The shuttle, painted a glossy silver and black, was currently making its way towards Earth at well past the speed of light. It was small and sleek, the sports car of a line of personal shuttles currently being marketed to the executive on the go.
This one in particular had an engine that was not available to the general public in any of the upgrade packages offered. It had been specially designed in the same laboratories by several unorthodox consultants for the CEO of Winner Enterprises himself. They had started with the same base plan and taken it in ways that would be prohibitively expensive to mass produce, but had resulted in a level of speed and maneuverability that was years ahead anything that was not a custom design.
Safely inside, strapped into a seat made of butter soft synthetic leather sat the man himself studying a schematic as the shuttle blasted through the long miles of space. He could and often did pilot himself, but in this case he was accompanied by his long time companion. The man currently in command of the ship, at one time or another had been reported to be Mr. Winner's friend, lover, and bodyguard. The nature of their relationship however remained undefined to those outside his tight circle of friends as Quatre Winner was steadfast his refusal to discuss his private life. It was one of many things that formed the basis for the media's love/hate relationship with the often elusive head of Winner Enterprises.
In court of public opinion however he reigned supreme. He was physically attractive, well dressed, and dedicated to making the world a better place, all of which worked in his favor. As did the fact that he could be found at ground zero of most disaster relief efforts. He not only opened his checkbook to those in need, but his heart and arms. Once, when a shuttle crashed into a residential neighborhood on L4 he allowed his home to be turned into a makeshift hospital and refugee shelter. He and his friends worked tirelessly along side the medical personnel for days on end.
The shuttle banked, making a course correction, and then barreled on through the vast expanses of open space. In ten point zero five hours it would be landing at the Geneva shuttle port where Mr. Winner and his companion would disembark. From there they would travel to an undisclosed location to spend the next two weeks. Because, it seems, even hard working, dedicated, humanitarians like Quatre Winner occasionally need to visit old friends, lie on the beach and drink margaritas.